


Tell Me Something

by livin_in_my_head_2



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 20:42:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18126260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livin_in_my_head_2/pseuds/livin_in_my_head_2
Summary: Peter has a lot of secrets. Wade's determined to hear them all.





	Tell Me Something

**Author's Note:**

> I hammered this out in a little less than an hour and it's not my best work, but I just couldn't get the idea out of my head! Let me know if you enjoy it and want to see more - I can't seem to stop writing small-town Spideypool!

The rumbling bumps of this road are familiar, nearly as familiar as the boy seated beside Peter. He knows every pothole, every curve and dip in the dusty surface. Not as well as he knows the scarring on Wade's skull, the tightness of the muscles in his shoulders, how his jeans sit loose on his hips.

But he pretends to know the road better.

He could drive it with his eyes closed, but he doesn't, because he'd rather look into the golden pools of headlight glow, watch for changes in the surface he has known all his life. He'd rather glance over at Wade, humming along to the soft music on the radio, a gentle smile on his lips. Here, in the cab of Peter's shitty old truck, the world lit by moonbeams and headlights, is one of the only places Wade will smile.

Peter wouldn't close his eyes and risk missing that for everything in the world.

They pull off the road down a path Peter's been carving ever since he bought this old pickup. Soon, they're rumbling to a stop in the middle of a long-abandoned cornfield. The grass isn't yet tall enough to cover their truck, but it brushes Peter's stomach as he hops out of the cab, crosses around to join Wade as he, too, gets out.

They walk in silence to the bed of the truck, the only sound the buzzing of some crickets just a few feet away, serenading them in the hazy laziness of the night. Peter's lost track of what time it is - just after midnight, probably, far enough from sunrise that they're safe from whatever the day will bring.

The boys climb into the bed, lie down next to one another. Mere inches of space separate them, inches that Peter has become increasingly aware of.

Wade raises his arms, puts them under his head. When he speaks, Peter glances over, gaze caught momentarily on the lines of his muscles, accentuated by his position. He is eternally grateful for the night's blanket of darkness, hiding the blush that floods his face.

"Tell me something you've never told anybody."

The crickets crescendo, harmonious and near-deafening.

"When I was five, I stole from Mr. Santiago's store. It was a candy bar. I knew I wasn't supposed to do it. I broke down when we got home and sobbed so hard that I couldn't breathe."

Wade's breathy laugh floats up above them, warming Peter to his toes. "That's kind of hilarious."

"Oh, not kind of. It's comedic gold."

It earns another chuckle from Wade, who turns to face him for the briefest of seconds. Peter can hardly breathe - Wade's dimples are  _ridiculously_ deep.

They lie there for a while longer, every once in a while exchanging words, mostly just staring at the stars. The crickets reach a new ferocity as they stand to leave, desperate to share the last strands of their melody before the boys drive off.

When they get back in the truck, Wade is a little calmer and Peter is a little happier. They leave the field with the sense of a job well done, a few hours spent wisely.

*

The next night, they are in the same place, shoes pressed together. Peter is trying not to hyperventilate.

"Tell me something you've never told anybody."

"When my Uncle Ben died, I didn't believe my aunt. I didn't believe her until we had the funeral. And then I didn't talk for two weeks."

He feels Wade's gaze on him.  _Oh, we are far from candy bars_.

"Is this about today?" he asks, gentle, simple. "Flash?"

"Yeah." Wade knows him too well. It isn't even fair, really - it's hardly a secret that Uncle Ben's death ruined Peter. Wade knew him back then, albeit not as well, watched as he refused to say a word. Punched the shit out of Flash, too, when Flash made a comment that sent Peter spiraling into a panic attack. Wade was suspended for a week and came back sporting a home-grown shiner and a grin that showed his newly missing tooth, all thoughts of bullies forgotten except for the one waiting for him at the bus stop.

Peter started talking again that day.

He focuses on breathing in and out, the muggy air condensing in his lungs.  _In, out. In, out_. He focuses again on the way his and Wade's shoes are pressed together, inches from the edge of the bed, lightyears below the stars, and finds himself breathless for all the right reasons.

*

The next night, they don't lie down in the bed, instead opting to prop themselves up on the cap, stare out over the sea of wild grass instead of into the infinity of the stars. Their legs touch down the whole length, sending Peter's heart into a marathon the likes of which it has never run before.

"Tell me something you've never told anybody."

"The truck was about to be sold to someone else and I was only about fifty bucks short. I lifted what I needed from Aunt May's purse. I put the money back as soon as I earned it. I just had to have the truck, I guess."

He is expecting it now, answers lined up in a pretty little row. He has secrets for days, which he suspects Wade knows. But there's only one he really wants to tell him, one that tightens his ribcage and closes his throat and pricks at his eyes with pure, undiluted fear.

Tonight is not the time for that secret.  _Test the waters, sense how he will react_.

Wade snorts a laugh, lets his head fall back against the cab of the truck. Peter does the same, and they turn to face each other in the same instant.

They are so close that Peter's heart aches from wanting, from the sheer desire coursing through his veins.

Wade looks away first, as Peter knew he would. Up to the stars, ignoring the tumulous ocean around them. Peter's gaze returns to the grass, every rustle and shift crystal clear in his mind.

The crickets are quiet tonight.

*

"Tell me something you've never told anybody."

Wade says this through a swollen lip, red with unshed blood and black with injured skin. Peter did the best he could with the split skin along his cheekbone, but there wasn't much he could do about his swollen lip.

Tonight is not the night for his favorite secret, the one that terrifies him and excites him all at once. Not when Wade's like this.

"I cheated on the chemistry exam we took last week. I totally forgot to study."

"Why?"

It's the first full-fledged response he's gotten to any of his secrets. It's one of the tamer secrets, though, so Peter isn't exactly surprised.

"I don't know. Actually, I do. I spent study hall napping."

"Tired from coming out here every night?"

"Yeah."

"You wanna stop?"

Peter knocks his shoulder against Wade's - gently, ever so gently. "Obviously not."

Wade lets out a small breath of relief. "Thank God. I don't know what I'd do with myself if we stopped."

"Sleep?" Peter suggests dryly, and is treated to another precious glimpse of Wade's dimples.

"Aw, man, shut up."

Peter makes up his mind in that instant, that moment of quiet companionship, as Wade's laughter slowly drains from his face, leaving it just that much lighter, smoothing out his brow by only a couple creases.

*

He failed his social studies exam earlier, that's for sure. And he nearly drove the truck off the road on the way over here, his palms were sweating so much. Wade barely even noticed, just gave out a low, "Woah," and returned his attention to the radio dial, annoyingly sticky and somehow never able to find a functioning station.

Now they're here, parked in the once-cultivated cornfield, staring up into the stars. And Peter is waiting. Waiting patiently for that handful of words.

"Tell me something you've never told anyone."

He doesn't dare look at Wade as he replies, "I'm crazy in love with you."

The silence from Wade is so terrible, so heartbreaking, so much everything that Peter desperately didn't want to hear, that he blurts out the first stupid thing that comes to his head. The only thing that seems appropriate after a dumbass secret like that.

"Tell me something you've never told anyone."

Wade clears his throat, looks over at Peter. Peter forces himself to meet his gaze.

"I'm crazy in love with you."

The words don't even register. They're too sugar-coated, sweet in this quiet, moonlit place of whispered secrets. They can't be true, not in this cornfield left to the mercy of the elements, the mercy of encroaching Mother Nature.

Peter doesn't truly understand what Wade has said until Wade's lips are on his, until Wade's running his hands through his hair and pressing his body to the floor of the bed and Peter is gasping for air, grabbing at Wade, touching all the places he's ever wanted to and never let himself even daydream about. Wade's knee is between his legs and he's biting Peter's lower lip and Peter can barely get a good breath, not like this, not with every wish he's harbored for the past however many years coming true.

Every nerve is alight with this - Wade's lips, chapped and rough but so insanely sweet, his intoxicating, hitching gasps as he pulls back momentarily, giving them both a second to breathe. The way his shirt is riding up over the waistband of his jeans, the way his hands, calloused to hell and back, are gliding over Peter's skin, insanely smooth movements sending him soaring so high that the world spins.

Finally, Wade pulls away, mere inches from Peter's face. The same sorts of inches that once separated their bodies, now pressed flush together. Peter's arms are hooked around his neck and Wade is pulling him off of the bed ever so slighly, suspending him in midair.

"Tell me something you've never told anyone."

"I love you," Peter says, and he whispers it a thousand more times as Wade peppers kisses down his neck, lets his hands drop lower and lower, presses into Peter like they are one and the same.

_I love you, I love you, I love you._


End file.
